This is a story of one of the refugee families I worked with in Vienna at Train of Hope this summer.
Noor (age 2) and Hamoudi (age 7) are
the children of Ahmed and Rana*, a family from Syria. They decided to
leave Syria after their families had either fled themselves, or had
been killed in the current civil war plaguing the country. The family
decided to take the route most Syrians and Iraqis had taken; they
were trafficked into Turkey in the back of a cramped truck. Once
having arrived in Turkey, they were instructed to dispose of their
paper work and passports by traffickers, as this was said to make the
asylum process a significant amount easier. They then spent a large
percentage of their life savings on the journey. They were put into a
small, unstable, plastic boat; the women and children moved towards
the center of the boat, while the men surrounded them on the outside.
They said that the boat almost capsized multiple times on the journey
to Greece. Upon arriving in Greece, they embraced the land as if they
had never seen such comfort in their lives. Ahmed told me that he
spent about 15 minutes prostrated thanking God that they made it.
This, however, was not the end of their journey. They still had to
trek through three countries mainly on foot; Macedonia, Serbia and
Hungary. Throughout the journey, they had little to no access to any
hygiene products or opportunities; their backpacks and supplies had
been thrown off the boat by traffickers, and their were no places
they could refresh themselves at. They resulted to taking baths in
any bodies of water they could find; seas, lakes, rivers. Anything.
During the days where they were tired, they spent the day at coffee
shops buying just enough to stay there. Eventually they reached
Hungary. There, they were jailed and abused by the Hungarian
authorities. Ahmed showed me the bruises from where they had beaten
him. Rana told me how she would beg the authorities for just a glass
of water to give to her children; she told me how they would laugh
and spit in her face in response to this. She told me about how they
ended up beating her as well, and while this was happening, the only
thing she would scream is “Take me back to Syria, even war is
better than this! If I wanted to get beaten by men in uniforms I
would've stayed in Syria!” They eventually let them out, only after
forcing them to register, and this was only because they had no room
left in the jail cells. They then proceeded to take a train from the
Austro-Hungarian border into Vienna, where I met them. It was a day
where we received around 500 refugees at Train of Hope in
Hauptbahnhof Wien. Throughout all the chaos, I made eye contact with
Rana, who looked distressed, confused, exhuasted and quite frankly,
like she was about to burst into tears. In her arms, I saw Noor, and
next to them I saw Ahmed and Hamoudi. I felt drawn to them in a way I
will never be able to put into words. I immediately dropped what I
was doing, and walked towards them. “Kil shy tamam? Tahtajoon shy?”
(Is everything ok? Do you need anything?) I asked. At first, they
were too shy and prideful to give an answer, but after me pestering
them for a while, they finally explained that they were hungry and
needed some fresh clothes and medical attention for Noor, who was
ill. Upon hearing their requests, I immediately catered to their
needs. After getting them all that they needed, and translating for
the doctors who took a look at Noor, who was not only ill, but had a
diaper rash that made the poor girl insufferable, I was dragged to
the playpin by the two children. We played with the stuffed animals
while their mother recounted their experiences to me as if she'd
known me for her whole life. She told me about her life, about her
relationship, and her children. She said she felt like I was her
sister. At first, Ahmed was skeptical, but after a couple of hours,
he opened up in the same way. I spent two days with the family,
translating legal advice, advising, talking to the parents, and
playing with the children. This was the first and only family I
became truly attached to. On their last night in Vienna, they spent
some of their money to invite me for a “thank you” drink. We
bonded over that drink, as they asked about my studies, my life, and
my family. They talked to me about Syria while Noor sat on my lap and
played with her toys and Hamoudi recounted his favorite shows to me
in excruciating detail. I still keep in contact with the family,
Ahmed texted me just the other day wishing me a happy Eid. He also
let me know that him and Hamoudi have made it to Belgium, got their
papers processed and are now integrating into society- they now have
an apartment, Ahmed is in language courses, and Hamoudi is in school.
*name has been changed for security
reasons.
